


rainbow paint

by i_was_human



Category: Lost in Translation (Webcomic)
Genre: Angst, Canon Gay Character, Crack, Falling In Love, Fluff, M/M, No Beta, Painting, feat. youngjoon's notoriously bad flirting techniques, the holy trifecta all in one fic wow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 18:00:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29211534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_was_human/pseuds/i_was_human
Summary: Minseok meets Youngjoon in a paint store by accident.This turns out to be a happy accident, which is the least he could ask for.
Relationships: Im Youngjoon | Young J/Minseok (Lost in Translation)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	rainbow paint

**Author's Note:**

  * For [iamliterallyahotpocket](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamliterallyahotpocket/gifts).



The first time Minseok meets Youngjoon, it's a mistake.

This is set to become a theme with their relationship, though he doesn't know it yet.

They meet, of all places, at a _paint store_ \- Minseok's picking up paint for his roommate, and when he rounds the corner, he runs smack into a man with a basket full of watercolors.

The tub slips from his hands, the lid popping open and drenching both of them in deep green paint, and the man blinks owlishly at him, paint dripping from the ends of his navy-blue hair.

And _god_ , he's cute.

He's just a little bit shorter than Minseok himself - not a surprise, most people are - and his narrow eyes blink rapidly in an attempt to stop drops of paint from rolling into them. There's a bit of paint on his lips, and as Minseok stares, he can see the tiniest pride earring hidden behind his messy hair. 

Oh.

 _Oh_.

"I'm- I'm so sorry," the man stammers, and Minseok _gawps_ at the audacity.

He's acting like _he's_ the one who messed up? _How_?

"You're fine," he gruffly replies, reaching up to rub at his paint-drenched shirt. "Shit... I liked this shirt."

"I'm sorry..." the man trails off, fidgeting with his sleeves. "I can pay you back for it? I have the money-"

"Don't worry about it," Minseok assures him. And _god_ , this man reminds him of Daehyun - the soft voice, the oversized hoodies - but there's _something else_ , too.

"Please," the man insists, and Minseok sighs, waving him off.

"If you wanna help, you can pay for the paint and come help me wash it out. I don't need a new shirt."

The man hesitates, and Minseok sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. "Look, I know I look scary, but-"

"I'm not worried about that," the man replies, rolling his paint-drenched sleeves up to the elbows. And holy _hell_ , this man is _ripped_.

He really _does not need to worry about that_ , huh?

"I just don't want to stain your shirt..."

"It's fine," Minseok mutters, tamping down the flickering in his chest. He is _not_ some schoolboy with his first crush (again). He is _mature_. "What's your name?"

"Ah- Im Youngjoon," the man replies, lips curling into a tiny grin, and _oh god oh fuck does he have dimples_ -

God, Minseok's so screwed.

* * *

Somehow, against all odds, Minseok gets Youngjoon's number. 

And, adding onto that, Youngjoon _actually texts him_.

He likes to send Minseok photos of his paintings - canvases colored in brilliant rainbows - and Minseok makes sure to praise him for each one, the emotions the older man's able to capture in colors leaving him stunned each time.

He doesn't even _like_ painting, and yet.

And yet.

And yet, it's _Youngjoon_ painting.

Slowly, slowly, their conversations segue from just painting to their days to the world at large, and it's like this that Minseok learns they're pining after the same boy.

What a sad, sad world this is.

Youngjoon's in love with Daehyun, and Daehyun's in love with Minyoung, and Minyoung used to be in love with Minseok, and Minseok's in love with Youngjoon _and_ Daehyun, and it _aches_ , because nobody's happy on this merry-go-round of pain, and yet they keep chasing each other anyways. 

He wishes it would stop.

He wishes it would stop, wishes Youngjoon wasn't an idol, wishes he could get off and hold the hand of the pretty boy with the watercolors painting his skin, wishes he could find _something_ to dull the gnawing, aching pain-

and _god_ , he doesn't deserve Youngjoon.

God, he's in love with Youngjoon. 

He's in love with Youngjoon.

He's in love with Youngjoon, and he wants to be better.

It's not- not like being in love with Daehyun. There's still this feeling of _mine must protect must keep safe_ but perhaps he _has_ matured a bit, because he _knows_ Youngjoon loves Daehyun, and in a weird way, that's alright.

It's alright, because a part of him still loves Daehyun, but another paint-splattered part of him loves Youngjoon, and that's not something he wants to deal with just yet.

 _"Do you have any new paintings?"_ he simply texts, and pulls the blankets over his shoulders in an attempt to hide from reality for one more moment.

* * *

Youngjoon comes over to help him paint his room.

It's his first apartment on his own - a place he can paint, in exchange for an exorbitant fee - and Youngjoon shows up with a box full of paint buckets and a small, small smile, and Minseok's heart _th-thuds_ in his chest.

"I brought a lot of colors 'cause I didn't know which one you wanted," the elder states, placing the box on top of another box, "but I figured it didn't mind, since it's not like I'm buying much else, anyways..."

Minseok leans over to stare at the contents, and Youngjoon hums, flipping the box open. "What do you think, Minseok-ah-"

He turns, and Minseok leans closer, and through some insane stroke of fate, their lips meet.

Neither one complains.

No - instead, Youngjoon blinks before straightening, their lips parting for a second before he wraps his hands around Minseok's waist.

He has large hands, Minseok thinks, staring down at the faint blush coating the elder's cheeks. Good omen.

"Wow," Minseok simply states, and Youngjoon's blush turns an even deeper shade of pink.

"Ah- is this- I'm sorry, is this awkward-"

Minseok kisses him again, and Youngjoon stops talking. 

They stand there for a few minutes, just trading kisses, before Minseok steps back, gesturing to the box behind a now bright-red Youngjoon. "Should we start?"

"Ah- paint- what?"

Minseok grins a bit, pressing a kiss to the shell of Youngjoon's ear as he scoops up the box. "We need to start, Joon-ah."

"Oh," Youngjoon dumbly states, and Minseok's grin widens.

"Cute."

"Wh- you- you're cute!"

* * *

Minseok takes a break for thirty minutes to make lunch.

That's all. Just thirty minutes.

And yet, when he comes back in, Youngjoon has somehow managed to create a _mural of them_.

Minseok gawps at it, gaze flitting wildly from the multiple scenes to the brilliant colors to the paint-splattered artist in front of it, shirt coated in dozens of different colors.

Oh, Youngjoon.

"What is this?" Minseok breathes, and Youngjoon yelps, nearly dropping the palette in his hands.

"Ah- Minseok-ah- it's not done! You can't see it until it's done!"

"It's a mural," Minseok breathes, unsure of _what_ , exactly, the proper reaction here is. "You did a _mural_."

"...Minsung-hyung said to be blatant?" Youngjoon offers, and Minseok snorts once, then twice, before devolving into full-on giggles.

Youngjoon panics, darting forwards to grasp his shoulders, and Minseok chokes on a dying wheeze, reaching up to cup his face.

"Do you- do you hate it?"

"I love it," Minseok gasps, "but Minsung-ssi said to shoot your shot, and you went with a _full mural_?"

"...he said grand romantic gestures were best..."

"Oh my god," Minseok wheezes, now _fully_ able to picture _the Lee Minsung_ very seriously telling Youngjoon to shoot his shot. "Oh my god- okay, the shot's been shot. You've shot it."

"Good," Youngjoon beams, reaching up to push a few locks of navy hair out of his face. "I'm so glad you like it!"

"I like it," Minseok assures him, and then, because he's a fool, "I like you."

Youngjoon flushes up to the tips of his ears once more, and Minseok stares at the rainbow smears on his cheeks and shirt for a moment before deciding it's worth it and pulling the elder into yet another kiss.

It's messy, it's paint-covered, it's kind of a disaster, it's-

it's perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> [the pic this is based off of](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/766748874043818024/803295358972067850/Screenshot_20210124-165741.png)
> 
> wrote this in 45 minutes while looping troye sivan's lucky strike please point out any mistakes
> 
> also this is my first time really writing minseok and i think i did okay but feel free to leave pointers rip
> 
> this was written for hot pocket as a prize for winning the lit fic kahoot :DDD
> 
> [twit](https://twitter.com/i_was_human_) | [lit fic discord!](https://discord.gg/CNunB74)


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